


The King and the Crownsguard

by The_flabbergasting_blobb_of_fluffyness



Series: After the end [3]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Awkwardness, Behold I did a happy story for once, Crushes, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Dorks in Love, First Meetings, Fluff, M/M, No actual relationship happening just yet, Noctis Lucis Caelum Lives, Noctis is a king but he's also a lonely boi, Pining, Post-Canon, Self-Esteem Issues, Social Anxiety, nerds
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:40:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24714712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_flabbergasting_blobb_of_fluffyness/pseuds/The_flabbergasting_blobb_of_fluffyness
Summary: What if…Noctis never met Prompto in school. Instead, after defeating Ardyn and surviving the Dawn, the King is in need of new members for the Crownsguard - and one of the applicants is a blond gunner with a passion for video games.OR: Prompto finds out that his new boss is hot. Only that his new boss is the king and he is a bumbling idiot who can’t stop putting his foot in his mouth.// Part of a series, but can be read separately//
Relationships: Prompto Argentum & Noctis Lucis Caelum, Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum
Series: After the end [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1586425
Comments: 22
Kudos: 119





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up: Plot-wise this has nothing to do with the two previous works in this series. I made it part of the series because it's basically set in the same universe, with the only difference that Noctis and Prompto didn't meet as teenagers. 
> 
> I like to examine characters I know from an outside perspective, i.e. through the eyes of a person who just met them. It's interesting to take away most of the things you learned about them and just focus on how they appear to a complete stranger. I wanted to do that for the Noct I wrote in my last two fics and when thinking of a second character whose point of view I could use, I came up with the idea that it could be Prompto (also I'm still not finished with writing about Promptis and I never will be). Cue a cute little story about a Prompto who never had a Noct to help him past his insecurities, and a Noct who never had a Prompto to give him a taste of normal life. Something happens. Have fun ;)

The palace was huge. That was kind of what palaces were like, but man… it was _huge._ And it wasn’t even a real palace, but _random building the King happens to live in_ didn’t have quite the same vibe. There was always an undertone of irony in that name though – after all, the building was nice and all, but it was a far cry from the Citadel. But that one was in ruins, so His Majesty would have to do without it for some time yet.

Nevertheless, Prompto was appropriately amazed by the size of the place, the proud crests on the walls and the official looking people hurrying around. Well, maybe not quite as much as he would have been, had he been here for a different reason. As it was, he was very much occupied with not fainting or puking all over the nice clean stairs leading up to the sparkling expanse of the glass doors. He pinched himself every few steps to assure himself that yep, this still wasn’t a dream. _Crownsguard._ That was a big deal. Maybe the biggest, now, after the Dawn. He would never have thought of applying, but then Iris had jumped him with the news that he had not one, but _two_ personal recommendations for the post and who would miss out on that?

Idiots. That’s who.

Now Prompto was reasonably sure that he was an idiot, but not _that_ kind of idiot. He’d never dreamed of giving his life to the Crown, far from it; back in the old days, royalty had always been something that was simply _there._ Something that appeared in the papers and on TV frequently but was otherwise of little consequence. There _had_ been the then-prince Noctis Lucis Caelum himself going to his school, but for Prompto, he just as well might have lived on another planet. He hadn’t exactly been the kind to suck up to royalty - not the kind to even think about tarnishing the air the prince had been breathing with his mere presence.

Then the Long Night had come. Well, Niflheim had come first, technically. They had waltzed through Insomnia and driven the people out in desperate waves of refugees, Prompto among them. Somehow, he had managed to get to the outer regions without being trampled to death or starving or being torn apart by wild beasts. He had taken the odd job and struggled through. _Then_ the Long Night had come. And daemons. Lots and lots of daemons.

When he had first taken up a gun, it had been a means of survival. And contrary to expectations, extensive arcade training seemed to pay off in real life as well. After two years or so he had started to hunt for real. At one of the hunter outposts he had met Iris, that tiny death-machine with a pixie cut. She was nice and funny and at least as bubbly and restless as him, and maybe he would have thought that she was cute, too. But then he had met her brother, although briefly, and that thought had been nipped in the bud. Because how much muscle mass could a man _have_? That just seemed excessive. But even her family relations with a half-behemoth hadn’t stopped him from becoming at least fast friends with her and eventually she had wheedled him into joining the remains of the Crownsguard. Not officially of course, since there hadn’t exactly been any official channels left to go through, but he’d dedicated most of his time to fighting alongside them. Greater cause and all that – but first and foremost a means to an end. The end being food and potions and ammo and a reason to keep going for years and years of perpetual night. And apparently, he hadn’t been the complete mess he had expected to be, because Cor _the frickin’ Immortal_ Leonis had taken it on himself to help his training along. Prompto suspected that it had started out as a favour to Iris, but the Marshal wasn’t the kind of person to bother with a hopeless case, so he must have done _something_ right.

And now, a few months after the Dawn, Iris had told him that the Crownsguard desperately needed people again, this time officially, for His Majesty’s personal guard. People they trusted. For whatever reason unknown to men, Iris herself as well as Cor (the Immortal, yes, _that_ Cor, Astrals have mercy) had recommended _him._

So here he was, staring up at the spruced-up façade of the ‘palace’.

He was to meet with one Ignis Scientia and Iris’s brother, Gladiolus. The latter was the captain of the Crownsguard, so that made sense. Ignis was the King’s advisor or was it chamberlain? He could never remember. Through Cor, Prompto had met both of them a few times during the Long Night. Though they had never done anything exceeding an exchange of polite greetings and strict business talk. It had been enough to learn that their mere presences were able to drag every single one of his flaws and insecurities to the surface to stare him in the face. Ignis was smart and sophisticated and had an air of authority Prompto couldn’t even begin to understand. Gladiolus was, well… he was the ultimate dude. Muscles and scars and tattoos and raw power and rage. Prompto was a broomstick with a self-esteem issue the size of a catoblepas, and nothing to offer but a steady aim.

But somehow, all of this had brought him _here._ Maybe that counted for something.

He took a deep breath and stepped up to the glass doors leading into the lobby. He half expected the guards that stood to both sides to stop him, to throw him out on his butt and remind him that a dirty pleb had no business walking on the same floor as the King himself; but nothing happened. He slunk into the lobby, looking around with wide eyes. He probably wore what Iris liked to call the ‘startled-puppy-look’. But he couldn’t help himself; there were high walls and a fricking red carpet and the people walking around all looked so business-like. Okay, the inside of the building looked more like the headquarters of some security company, all practical and serious, not nearly as lavish and artful as the insides of the Citadel he had seen on TV a few times. But it still felt _wrong_ for him to be here and no one seemed to take note of him and maybe he should just slip back out before anybody noticed the strange dude standing on their carpet like a deer in the headlights…

‘Mister Argentum?’, a cultivated voice said behind him. He whirled around and stared into the unseeing eyes of Ignis Scientia.

‘Y-Yeah, uhm… how… how did you know?’ Was that rude? Shit, he’d been rude, hadn’t he?

There was a thin smile tugging at the corners of the advisor’s (he _was_ the advisor, right?) mouth.

‘I had a guard point you out to me and then simply followed the sound of irregular breathing.’ The smile was definitely a smirk now, just subtle enough to still be polite. Prompto felt the tell-tale heat of a blush creeping over his cheeks. Damn, were his nerves _that_ obvious, even to a blind guy?

‘Please, follow me’, Ignis said smoothly, waving him along with a perfectly measured, polite gesture. ‘And there is no need to be nervous.’

Prompto let out a heavy breath and straightened himself, trying to look more confident than he felt. First impressions mattered, and all that. Then he hurried after Ignis, deeper into the palace.

***

It turned out that going straight to whatever kind of meeting or job interview he was here for would have been far too easy on his already frayed nerves. Instead, Ignis dumped him in a sort of gallery with the excuse of having to organize a few things and the promise of picking him up soon. He seemed genuinely sorry for the delay, for whatever that was worth.

Prompto let his aching shoulders slump and looked around, feeling a bit lost. He was in a hallway or just a really long room, one wall almost entirely made of windows. There was a plush carpet and a few armchairs and sofas scattered across the room, amongst tastefully arranged potted plants and delicate coffee tables. It made him painfully aware of the dust on his boots and his general lack of fine motor skills. The whole scenario screamed of broken vases and falling face first through a glass table. At least there seemed to be no one else around to witness whatever faux-pass he was about to commit. 

Mindful of the far too elegant furniture around him, he stepped closer to the windows. Looking outside without moving too much seemed like a safe option and unlikely to offend anyone. And he might as well admire the view while he could.

The view that was absolutely _gorgeous._

After the first quick look, he found himself pressed against the glass, trying to take in as much as he could and at the same time tasting bitter regret that he hadn't been allowed to bring a camera. After all, how often would he see the whole of Insomnia spread out at his feet like an intricate mosaic of buildings, streets, parks, squares, canals… He could even see the remains of the Wall in the distance. An endless sky spanned the sunbathed city, its deep blue a sharp contrast to the blinding white of the clouds chasing the wind on the horizon.

Engrossed in the view, he flitted from window to window, searching for the best angles even though he had no satisfying means to capture them. Then he looked up to see that the hallway took a turn in front of him, which would offer a whole new perspective on the city. Excited, he hurried around the corner – and came to an abrupt halt as he noticed that there was a person sitting in one of the armchairs.

The dark-haired man (it was pretty obvious that he belonged here, clad in royal black from head to toe) raised his head to meet Prompto's eyes, annoyance clear on his features. The expression smoothed over quickly though, to be replaced by a practised neutral stare. The blond could feel his cheeks heating up because despite the way that guy lounged in his chair like a bored teenager he somehow managed to look proper and important and _oh Gods he was good looking, too_ he would just die right in this spot thank you very much.

'I, uh...', Prompto stammered. 'Sorry, I-I didn't mean to interrupt... y’know… anything.'

The man sighed, but he gave a dismissive wave and a small slanted smile.

'It's fine. No harm done.'

The blond relaxed, but only by a fraction. 'Great, so... I'll just... leave. Now. Yeah.'

He spun around on his heel to hurry back to the other side of the room and probably bury his head in one of the plant pots. At least he tried to, but the other man quickly interjected.

'You don't have to leave on my account. I don't mind.'

So… that was basically an invitation, right? Would it be rude to decline and flee to some distant corner where the imminent demise of whatever dignity he had left _wasn’t_ looming over him? Or was the guy just trying to be polite and would actually be pissed if Prompto continued to crowd his space? Why did this have to be so damn complicated!? The guy in black let out another sigh, just a little puff of air, but it had Prompto jump as if he had been poked with a hot knife. _Yeah, good job_ , he thought to himself. _You already annoyed the first person you met._

He scrambled for something to say, anything, _anything would be more appropriate than staring at a stranger_ (a good looking stranger, his brain most unhelpfully supplied) _with his mouth open and sweat running down his back and oh Gods were his clothes soaked through would he have to meet his new boss all sweaty and gross he could not do this shit shit shit…_ But the other man just shrugged and turned back to staring at his phone.

Tapping furiously at his phone?

Ah, playing at his phone.

And just like that the anxiety was gone, replaced by curiosity, because that colourful game looked awfully familiar…

Prompto totally wouldn’t stare at other people’s phone screens. Nope, never. But those bouncing pixels had a magical pull to them and he just couldn’t avoid his eyes. And then the tiny figure of a boss jumped into the screen, recognizable even from his angle and distance, and he was absolutely sure. He was sure that he was totally, completely, one hundred percent screwed. Forget his social anxiety and his hammering heart - no force in the universe would keep him from making a complete idiot of himself now that his brain kicked into full nerd-drive.

The guy in black took on the boss with his thumbs dancing across the screen in practiced motions. And he failed. Hard. With an annoyed _tsk_ he frowned at the _YOU DIED_ screen and pressed the reload-button with a bit more force than necessary. And Prompto couldn’t resist. It was just too damn tempting, finding this random dude in this random room of his (hopefully) new workplace, playing his favourite game in the world. He inched closer to the armchair, leaned towards the guy just as much as he dared, and asked with a perfectly innocent voice: ‘Hey, uh… you play King’s Knight?’

The other man looked up and _something_ crossed his face. If Prompto didn’t know better (and he _did_ know better, because a guy important enough to casually hang out in the middle of the royal palace could certainly not be thrown off guard by some rando), he would say it was bafflement. Not necessary a bad kind, though.

‘Yeah…’, the guy answered with a guarded expression. Guarded, but curious. ‘I keep dying though – that boss is _serious_.’ He respawned as he spoke, stubbornly navigating his avatar back towards the boss room. Soon he was engrossed in the fight again.

‘Jump on the rocks there when he comes from below’, Prompto suddenly said, pointing at the screen. He hadn’t even noticed that he had drifted closer to the other man, completely fixated on the game. ‘Good, and after he does that attack, he pauses for a second. You can get him from behind.’

A few minutes later, the little victory fanfare was playing, and King’s Knight-guy leaned back against the cushions with a satisfied little smirk. It was then that Prompto realised that he was practically breathing down the other’s neck with how far he was leaning over his phone. He quickly jumped back, blood already rushing to his head.

‘Sorry dude, I… totally didn’t mean to do that, I’m so sorry…’ he squeaked. What the hell had he been thinking?

The other looked up to him with a weird mixture of amusement and resignation. ‘No worries.’ He waved towards the armchairs gathered around with a lazy gesture. ‘You don’t have to stand there by the way, make yourself at home.’

Prompto immediately dropped on the chair closest to him, back ramrod straight and fingers fidgeting nervously. But the other’s gaze had already drifted to his phone again, long limbs sprawled all over his own chair. So the blond figured that he was allowed to relax too. Just a bit, though. Wouldn’t want to almost sexually harass a stranger again because of poor impulse control.

But now there was an awkward silence and Prompto had nothing to do but stare at the guy who was now up close in front of him. Which was bad, very bad, because yeah, shit… he was hot.

Storm-blue eyes, just enough beard to make his smooth face look more masculine and intense, messy dark hair that looked so damn soft to the touch… He was wearing a black dress shirt that showed off the lines of a slim but toned torso and his fingers were long and elegant and dextrous in their movement and Prompto really, really shouldn’t continue this thought because otherwise sweaty armpits would be the least of his worries. He desperately grabbed on to the first topic that buzzed through his head, dead set on getting any conversation going that would distract him from the body lounging on the soft cushions in front of him and his own lecherous thoughts. Even if he didn’t know if that would save him now. Because his eyes stubbornly returned to the front of the black shirt that was unbuttoned far enough to reveal just a flash of collarbone, to that enticing play of muscles on bared underarms, the curve of soft lips framed by a dark beard…

‘So… you work here?’, Prompto croaked.

King’s Knight-guy looked up again and blinked. He seemed seriously stumped by the question and Prompto was already panicking and asking himself whether he had committed some crime against etiquette - when there was something like realisation dawning on the other man’s face and suddenly he looked the blond over with a whole new kind of interest. It made Prompto feel like he was missing something vital here.

‘I guess you could say that’, King’s Knight-guy answered, carefully stretching out the words. All the blond could think was _Score!_ – if he could manage to land the job with the Crownsguard, there would be at least one person around who was apparently around his age and also shared a hobby. And was also hot. Couldn’t forget to think about _that_ frequently, lest he might start to behave like a normal human being instead of a skittish anak with zero social skills. Sky-coloured eyes watched him intently and he did his best not to blush when being asked ‘What about you? I haven’t seen you around before.’

‘Uh… yeah. I’m here for a… job interview, I guess? For the Crownsguard.’

King’s Knight-guy raised his eyebrows. ‘Right… so you’re the guy.’

Prompto hadn’t expected any member of the court besides the King’s retinue to have heard about him. But the other hadn’t immediately started to laugh at the thought of a weirdo like him joining the Crownsguard, so that was a plus. He would take what he could get. On the other hand he wasn’t all that keen to discuss the details of his application, because it would beg the question how he, a pleb without formal training or important family or _muscles_ had gotten a personal recommendation in the first place. And he honestly could not answer that – he didn’t exactly have anything special to offer besides the ability to make a fool of himself in almost any given situation.

So he did the only thing he could think of to escape any uncomfortable questions and whipped out his phone.

‘Yeah, so… wanna play a round?’

***

‘Hell yeah, torch the sucker!’

Prompto really tried not to stare. He didn’t succeed entirely, but he thought that was excusable given the weirdness of the situation. Well, maybe it _shouldn’t_ feel weird, but it surely did. Not that he would have found it strange for his companion to get audibly excited about their game – normally, he would have been the first to shout and taunt and tease. If it weren’t for the fact that those were the first words King’s Knight-guy (the name floating above his avatar’s head on screen was _NoctGar_ ) had uttered since they had started their game. Prompto had just resigned himself to the fact that they would continue in awkward silence since he himself would not dare to ramble on as he usually did when the other clearly wasn’t keen on talking. But then, out of nowhere, came the enthusiastic comment on an admittedly rather spectacular manoeuvre including a fire spell on Prompto’s part. But that undignified shout that seemed so displaced and at the same time completely natural coming out of that neatly dressed man’s mouth wasn’t really the weirdest part. Because the same neatly dressed and confident-to-outright-bored-looking man froze, just for a heartbeat, and then quickly cleared his throat with the faintest of blushes blooming on his cheekbones. He almost looked… embarrassed?

No, surely not.

But the blush was there, as well as that tell-tale glance he shot Prompto. The blond knew that kind of glance, he used it himself frequently. Quickly checking whether the other minded his sudden outburst of enthusiasm or if he had - again - stumbled over one of those invisible lines in his social clumsiness.

Prompto didn’t mind. On the contrary. Apart from being stunned by the idea that someone would actually worry about what _he_ thought of _them_ , he felt a stupid kind of glee rise in his chest. That small gesture was the final puzzle piece to figure out that awkward silence he had endured for the past minutes, and it painted a whole new picture. It was just a vague feeling, but maybe, _maybe_ that guy was just as worried about scaring off Prompto as Prompto was about scaring off him. Was it a bit twisted to be happy about someone else’s anxiousness? Definitely. Would that stop Prompto from grinning like an idiot? Absolutely not.

‘Good fight, man!’

Another familiar expression sparked on the other man’s face, and his lips curled into a slanted smile. ‘You too. That kill was _sick_!’

While their avatars went to collect the loot and move on to the next area, they hesitantly started up some light banter – about King’s Knight, their favourite levels and worst boss fights, nothing too personal. Just a casual conversation to pass the time.

Half an hour into their game they were shouting and teasing each other like they had known each other for ages. Somewhere along the line, Prompto had completely forgotten about his interview and the passing of time in general. The only thing disturbing them every now and then was the frequent chime of King’s Knight-guy’s phone, but he waved it off each time saying that it wasn’t important right now. Somehow, this made Prompto feel even warmer inside.

He was floating on cloud nine. He couldn’t remember when he had last been so comfortable around a person he hardly knew. Even if there were those treacherous thoughts popping up frequently, threatening to crack his composure. Thoughts like whether a job interview was the right place to ask Ignis about the Court’s policies on workplace romances. Not that he assumed a probably important person like… _NoctGar_ would have any interest in a simple grunt like him. But it didn’t hurt to be prepared, right? Except that it _would_ hurt like a bitch once the guy found out how messed up and weird he really was and started to ignore him…

‘Dude! Pay attention!’ The shout pulled him out of his spiralling thoughts and set his mind back on track. ‘Nice one!’, the other man commented after Prompto wiped out an enemy. He held up his fist. The blond blinked, before feeling his face split into a grin so wide that it almost hurt. They bumped fists before returning to the game, and that warm feeling in Prompto’s chest left almost no room for ugly thoughts.

Far too soon for either of their tastes, King’s Knight-guy’s phone chimed again, and this time it didn’t stop. He pulled a face and put the game on hold to answer the call.

‘Yeah… yeah.’ An eyeroll. ‘Calm down, Specs, I’m on my way.’

With a sigh, he put away his phone and rose from the armchair. ‘Duty calls’, he said with an apologetic shrug in Prompto’s direction.

‘Sure, yeah, no problem dude’, the blond hurried to say. And then, deciding to chance it: ‘So, uhm… see you around? Maybe?’

King’s Knight-guy looked actually a bit surprised at that. Positively surprised, as Prompto noted with a weird flutter in his stomach. The dark-haired man grinned. The first full-on grin the blond had seen from him, as he noted with a swelling sense of accomplishment.

‘Sure thing.’

And then he was gone. Leaving Prompto sitting in his ridiculously plush armchair, staring down at the dark screen of his phone and asking himself just what the hell he was doing.

 _What do you think?,_ he chastised himself. _Making a work friend. Normal people do that. No need to freak out._

Before he could do just that though – because he wasn’t _normal people_ , he had no idea what to _do_ with a friend, he would screw this up so badly - he heard steps approaching. Turning around, he spotted the King’s advisor hurrying in his direction. The sight made his nerves return full-force and all at once. He gulped and stood up on unsteady feet to meet the man.

‘I’m terribly sorry for the wait’, Ignis said in his usual collected manner. Though Prompto believed to spot a minuscule crack in his perfect façade. ‘I’m afraid _some_ attendants of our meeting were rather difficult to get a hold of.’

‘Ah… no worries’, the blond hurried to say because Ignis did _not_ seem happy about it. The older man just inclined his head and waved him along. Prompto followed him with a hammering heart. He could do this. Iris believed he could do this. _Cor_ believed he could do this, even if he still couldn’t figure out why. And - the thought of storm-blue eyes and messy black hair sneaked into his head – the rare chance of making a new friend (of getting some more time alone with the guy he might develop a teeny tiny crush on) was surely worth putting his everything to this task, right? He just had to survive the next few minutes.

***

He did survive the next few minutes, although it felt like a close call. By the time Ignis stopped in front of a door Prompto’s legs felt like jelly and he was pretty sure his hands were trembling. He couldn’t check, since he feared that nausea would get the better of him if he looked down. And of course his companion didn’t give him any time to collect himself before opening the door and guiding him through.

The room they entered was a plain meeting room – empty walls, a grey carpet on the floor, nondescript tables and chairs, a lonely potted plant in the corner. The bleak furniture brought to mind that even the King himself and his court hadn’t quite returned to their normal lives yet. But Prompto barely noticed any of the details of his surroundings, since his attention was claimed entirely by the two people awaiting them in the room.

The first one was Gladiolus Amicitia, captain of the Crownsguard and Shield of the King, looking just as big and muscly and intimidating as ever.

The second one was King’s Knight-guy.

He had put on a jacket over his dress shirt and his hair looked as if he had tried to tame it half-heartedly. But the little smirk he gave Prompto as he caught his gaze was just the same as before. Just enough for Prompto to be sure that he hadn’t dreamed the whole thing in the gallery – playing phone games with some high-ranking Crownsguard official. Because that’s what his new acquaintance had to be if he was involved in choosing the King’s personal guard. And Prompto had called him _dude._ Shit.

It took some real effort to tear his gaze away from the dark-haired man and face Gladiolus – as the King’s Shield probably the most important person Prompto had ever met in his short pitiful life – and await the inevitably awkward introductions. Ignis didn’t step up to the towering behemoth though, but took his own place at the side of the shorter of the two men. And smoothly announced: ‘Mister Argentum, please let me introduce to you His Royal Majesty, King Noctis Lucis Caelum.’

…

…

…

_What_

Prompto blinked, dumbstruck, desperately trying to focus past the blinking error-message that had popped up in his head. Some part of him was running in circles screaming while the other watched, trying to understand what the hell was happening. But there was no punch line, no confetti raining from the ceiling and nobody pointing out a hidden camera. There were just three people looking at him expectantly, two of them with minor irritation that grew every second he was just standing there with a slack jaw instead of… instead of…

Instead of bowing to the man that was the ruler of the entire fucking kingdom including Prompto’s sorry ass and introducing himself like a normal human being with manners and shit. Instead of saying what an honour it was to meet him and getting the fuck on with business. Right.

_Get it together, just act like a normal person, don’t think about it, don’t think about playing phone games with the King, don’t think about playing phone games with the King, don’t think about…_

‘I- I’m Prompto Argentum, it’s an honour to meet you, your Ki- I mean Knight _-_ ugh… Majesty. Your Majesty.’

This was it. His life was over. He stood there with glowing red cheeks and waited for them to mercifully throw him out of the room so he could go and leave the city, maybe take a little vacation in some faraway country. Forever. Altissia was supposed to be beautiful this time of year, if it wasn’t still in ruins… But Ignis just shared a discreet half-confused, half-amused look with Gladiolus (which was kinda weird given the fact that he couldn’t _look_ at all but he still seemed to know exactly when the taller man’s eyes drifted towards him) and breached the uncomfortable silence by politely clearing his throat. While King’s Knight-guy – the _King_ , he was the _King_ , that chill, nerdy and slightly awkward dude – oh Gods, the King was _socially awkward_ , how was he supposed to process that kind of information, would they have to kill him now so he couldn’t tell anyone about it? – the King wore a crooked little smile and looked at him from behind dark eyelashes.

Was he looking _sheepish_?

Fuck.

This was so fucked up.

He became aware that he was dangerously close to hyperventilating, so he resolutely shut down any thought concerning _NoctGar the freaking King of Lucis_ (had he at least buttoned his shirt all the way by now? He couldn’t handle royal collarbone on top of everything else… _nononononono nope don’t even think about it_ ). It wouldn’t do to pass out in front of his interviewers, not that it would make the situation any _more_ awkward. Thankfully, Ignis decided to have mercy on him and just move things along as if he hadn’t just made the biggest possible fool of himself.

‘Well, Mister Argentum, we heard good things about you from Marshal Leonis and Miss Amicitia. We would just like to ask you a few questions…’

The next fifteen minutes were easily the worst in Prompto’s entire life. They also made him develop a deep gratitude towards Ignis – scratch that, they made him want to worship the ground the man was walking on. The advisor was probably the only reason he didn’t break down completely, expertly steering the conversation forward and smoothing over Prompto’s insecure stammering and nervous episodes (which occurred pretty much every time his eyes accidentally drifted towards his royal gaming buddy - who at least had the decency to look slightly ashamed which also kinda made things _so_ much worse).

The questions were pretty standard. Ignis wanted to know about his motivations, his life before the fall, his career as a hunter and his training with Cor. His thoughts on the late King Regis (he’d been a good ruler, probably?), on the Kingsglaive (nice guys, at least the ones that weren’t traitorous douchebags), the rebuilding effort (yes) and Niflheim (complicated). Cor had prepared him for the kind of questions he might face, so most of the time he was able to just rattle off the answers he had worked out before. He still felt ready to melt into a puddle of anxious goo when finally, someone came to his rescue.

That someone being a certain King Prompto really really tried not to think about.

‘I think you grilled him enough, Specs.’

For a moment the advisor seemed tempted to disagree, but after a silent back and forth between the two of them he just sighed and inclined his head.

‘Well, it seems you made an impression’, he said to Prompto, conveniently leaving out whether that impression had been good or bad. ‘If you have no further questions yourself, you are free to go. We thank you for your time and will contact you shortly.’

Under other circumstances, maybe Prompto would have worried about the fact that the three most important men of the kingdom had made time to personally conduct his job interview, only to send him back home after asking no more than a handful of generic questions (while two of them had mostly just watched without uttering a word). That couldn’t be a good sign. But as it was, he had no objections to leaving this room as soon as possible. He stuttered his way through a few formal phrases he had totally not looked up beforehand and fled through the door as soon as it seemed acceptable.

***

He made it past three doors on the corridor before he had to stop and lean his forehead against the blissfully cool wall. His whole face was burning. _He just met the King of Lucis._ Of course he’d been aware that that would be part of the job, he wasn't stupid, but he’d never have expected to meet him before he was even officially employed. And he certainly wouldn’t have expected to randomly stumble across him somewhere in the palace and play a round of King’s Knight with him. And it hadn’t even crossed his mind that this guy in _royal black_ looked kind of familiar. Sure, the media coverage wasn’t the best at the moment so the last time he’d been in the papers and on TV frequently had been ten years ago. But Prompto was sure that he had seen his face _somewhere_ recently. And he hadn’t caught on for even a second. He had called him _dude_ and _teased_ him while getting excited about a stupid game. Never mind that, he had all but drooled over him with his stupid dirty little mind running wild – the only question at this point was whether he would go to jail first or just straight to hell. What was the Astral’s punishment for lusting after their chosen, the guy who straight up _saved the whole of Eos_?

If only he was _just_ hot ( _oh Gods he thought it, he thought the King was hot_ ). In that case, Prompto could have gone home, jerked off to some porn and thought about the whole thing with a clear head after. But nope, this was _much_ more complicated. Hanging out with him had been… nice. It hadn’t been for long, but Prompto had felt relaxed around him. An impressive feat, considering that normally, half an hour of conversation was barely enough for his anxiety to dissolve to the point where he didn't feel nauseous anymore. But not this time. Their personalities had fit like two pieces of a puzzle and just thinking about the guy in the gallery instead of the King, he wanted so badly to see whether they were really as much alike as it seemed. Maybe, if things had been different, Prompto might even have gotten over his insecurities and asked someone out for once… _Nope no what the fuck what are you doing don’t even go there. He’s the KING. The KING, for fuck’s sake._ _Besides, not like you would have had the guts either way, no matter how hard you’re pining for_ - _NO what the hell, there is no pining, there is no pining, there is NO…_

He was too preoccupied with freaking out to notice the sound of steps approaching him.

‘Hey.’

Prompto whirled around only to meet storm-blue eyes. The eyes of Noctis Lucis Caelum _a.k.a. NoctGar King of Lucis Chosen of the Astrals Saviour of Eos and as of today probably Prompto’s secret (and utterly hopeless) crush._

‘Uh… hey. I mean- hello? Y-Your Majesty.’

There was a slight frown appearing on the King’s face at that, no more than a little downturn of his lips, but it made Prompto wince nonetheless. He should really, really look up the proper protocol for having a casual chat with royalty. Was he supposed to bow? Was he even supposed to talk to him or would a group of Crownsguards jump out from behind a pillar at any moment to drag him off?

‘Listen, I’m sorry. For… not warning you, I guess.’

It was still there, that damn sheepish look. Prompto had the urge to clap him on the shoulder and laugh it off, because he _knew_ the way the other man was shuffling his feet, his gaze drifting towards the carpet and hands buried in his pockets to keep them from fidgeting. But even if he might be allowed to have a friendly talk with the King without being tried for treason – he was pretty sure that touching was out of the picture. Stupid, stupid itching fingers. He stuffed them in his pockets, inadvertently mirroring the other’s stance.

‘No sweat. I, uhm… I’m sorry, too. If – if I was out of line. Y’know… earlier. Your Majesty.’

This time the frown was more pronounced, and Prompto was sure that if he hadn’t been out of line before, he sure as hell had been right now. But the other man (Prompto had to repeat his title in his head silently – in that moment, it was hard to think of him as anything but _King’s Knight-guy;_ slouching in a way that couldn’t be healthy for his back and squirming with words that wouldn’t come across his lips right) - the _King_ looked over his shoulder as if checking if someone was watching, then said in a low voice: ‘You don’t have to do that. Noctis is fine.’

‘Uhm…’

If anything, that conspiratorial tone implied that it was very much _not_ fine. But apart from the threat of a very pissed off advisor looming somewhere behind a corner and listening to their far too casual conversation disapprovingly, Prompto's mind was mostly circling around the ludecrous thought that he – pathetic, insignificant, awkward him – could be on a first name basis with the leader of the entire kingdom. It was madness. Things like that didn't just _happen,_ especially not to him. But he just received that crooked smile in response to his inarticulate answer; a smile that became addicting a bit too fast for comfort. Even if it was just a twitch of the lips really; barely enough to break through the carefully constructed blank expression that seemed to be the default as far as he could tell. And then the dark-haired man slumped against the wall next to him, every last trace of kingly demeanour gone.

‘I’m off the clock now, so you’re good. I mean it.’

More shuffling. Long fingers raked through messy dark hair, scratched at a bearded jaw. The motions shouldn’t have been so captivating. He shouldn’t feel the urge to gently tease the other’s nerves away with a smart remark and a punch to the shoulder.

‘It was fun earlier. I don’t really get to kick back that often – or play games with new people.’ The King – Noctis – snorted, a short sound carrying equal parts amusement and frustration. ‘Specs would probably have an aneurism if he knew that I gave you my username before he went through your phone with a fine-toothed comb.’

‘That sucks, man.’ It was out before Prompto could think better of it. But hell, he had already thrown a whole lot of things that guy’s way that would qualify as rude in the best, high treason in the worst case. He had never been able to control his mouth while gaming. So there probably wasn’t much more damage to be done now.

Which was a reason but no excuse for what came across his lips next.

‘But that explains why I had to drag your ass along in King’s Knight.’

The look in the storm-blue eyes was positively offended. It would probably have sent Prompto running or at least dropping to his knees and begging for forgiveness if he hadn’t been so preoccupied with marvelling at his own boldness. And before the cold dread could sink in, the Ki- Noctis had already shoved his phone in the blond’s face, wagging the device in front of his nose with narrowed eyes.

‘We’ll see about that. Rematch, now.’

Prompto really tried to keep the whole royalty-thing in mind. He really did. Maybe he could still salvage this and retain some trace of professionalism. The problem was that he really didn’t want to. And that he had never been able to resist a challenge like this.

‘Guess I have no choice’, he said with a lopsided smile and a shrug, which was about as much excitement as he dared to show. Squealing and throwing his arms around the other’s neck was a solid second option, but it was one of those options he would never act out ever, no matter how strongly they presented themselves in his head. 

Maybe he should have gone for it anyway.

The– Noctis’ face fell. He let the hand with his phone sink and backed down half a step. His shoulders slumped even more, as if he was trying to make himself smaller.

‘You know you can say no …right?’, he said hesitantly. ‘You don’t have to do me any favours because I’m-‘ He cleared his throat awkwardly and tried again. ‘I already told Specs that I want you on the Crownsguard. You could just tell me to fuck off right now and you’d still have your uniform by the end of the week.’

Prompto gaped. ‘Seriously? You… you mean that?’

‘Course I do. I’m not using my title to force someone to hang out with me.’

Prompto almost missed the subtle flash of hurt in Noctis’ voice, his mind busy with processing the fact that _he wanted to hang out with him_. But one thing after the other.

‘No, no, that’s not – I’d _love_ to hang out, obviously! I was talking about the Crownsguard thing. You mean that?’

Noctis’ frown cleared, and he stood a bit taller. Still not as tall as he did on those pictures in the papers, Prompto absently noted. Still not tall enough to pass as anything but a normal dude trying not to trip over his own words.

‘Sure. Cor says you’re the best sharpshooter he’s ever seen, everything else checked out and, well… ‘ The corners of his mouth twitched. ‘No offense, but it’s kinda obvious that you’re not used to the whole royalty-stuff. It’s… nice, actually. I could do with some normal people around.’

Prompto flushed – actually _flushed_ – at that, and he could feel his cheeks ache at how wide his grin was. He still didn’t believe that he could just chill with his new boss (did calling him that make things more or less weird? He couldn’t decide yet) without some kind of consequences. Ignis would most likely disapprove, and Gladiolus… ugh. But if the King himself said it was okay, then it couldn’t be _that_ bad, right? _Right?_

‘Just one condition’, Noctis added. ‘Don’t call me _Your Majesty_. I mean, it's protocol when you're a Crownsguard, but neither of us is working right now, so... Please.’

He seemed really serious about it, so Prompto didn’t mention that at this point, he probably would’ve had to put in a lot of effort to remember using the title at all. He just grinned and gave a (probably lame) thumbs up.

‘Sure thing. Let’s see what you’ve got then, Noct.’

Noctis gave him a strange look and Prompto bit his tongue. The nickname had slipped past his lips without thought; something a bit lighter, a bit less loaded than _Noctis. Noctis_ was part of a set, _Noctis Lucis Caelum_ , and everything that name implied. It just seemed too big for a casual conversation.

‘Uhm… I was just… it’s your name in King’s Knight’, he hurried to explain. ‘Should I call you something else?’

‘Nah, it’s fine.’ Noct waved his concern aside like it was no big deal, but Prompto thought that his eyes were smiling. ‘C’mon – if we’re lucky we can swipe a pizza from the kitchen without Specs noticing.’

Prompto followed him with his heart beating wildly, but this time it wasn’t from anxiety. He had to suppress a hysterical chuckle at the thought that _he was sneaking into the palace kitchen with the King to steal pizza_ but then Noct was taking a turn at the end of the hallway and he had to hurry to catch up with him.

It was the last thought he wasted on anything capital-K related for the next hours, since he was occupied with almost getting caught by Noct’s advisor when smuggling their tasty greasy prize from the kitchen to the gallery where they had met first; with yelling at Noct for cheating when he whipped out some special combo that almost burnt Prompto’s character to a crisp in friendly fire, and feeling like spontaneously catching fire himself when the same Noct leaned over his shoulder oh so closely to show him said combo.

When Ignis finally whisked Noct away to review some documents or something, Prompto headed home - several hours later than anticipated and with Noct’s promise that they would do this again as soon as both their duties allowed. He was humming the King’s Knight-theme as he walked down the stairs in front of the palace, drawing some curious glances from the guards he didn’t even notice.

This had easily been the best day in his entire life.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You spoke and I listened! Sorry for the long wait though, it took a while until I had the time sit down and write in peace.
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who left a comment or a kudos on the last chapter! Btw on my last fic, I tried to reply to every single comment - but that just felt weird and kinda forced, so I'm not doing that anymore. But you can be sure that I still read and love every single one of your comments, they always make my day :)
> 
> So as per request, here is the second chapter on dorks in love. On today's episode: entrance of the big brothers. Have fun!

_It wasn’t like they were dating._

A fist came flying towards his face with the force and intent of a sledge hammer, and Prompto barely managed to avoid it by ducking and spinning out of the way. His opponent didn’t give him enough time to get his bearings again but continued to rain punches on him. The blond dodged most of them, blocked a few more - even if the force made his teeth rattle – all while desperately watching for some kind of opening that would allow him to slither past the attacker’s defence and place a hit of his own. So far, he hadn’t had any luck.

_Come on, this is ridiculous._

All in all, Crownsguard training was fun. As fun as military drills, endless lessons on palace protocol and combat training could be. But it was a challenge, and a refreshing change from using his fighting skills out in the wilds; sweating in a nice clean gym where the worst injuries he would take home were aching muscles and bruises was infinitely more fun than the hours upon hours of messy carnage in the barely lit desert of Leide he was used to. Plus he had a sharp brand-new uniform and the people on the street looked impressed when he marched through the palace gates like he belonged there. Which he technically did, now. Not to mention that he had a steady source of income and his work schedule wasn’t as abysmal as he had feared. So yeah, he liked being a Crownsguard. Or a Crownsguard in training, anyway. There was just one tiny problem.

_Fuckfuckfuckfuckfu..._

His foot got caught on the edge of the training mat and he stumbled. He had to throw his whole body to the side and into a dive roll to avoid a kick to the gut. If he’d had his gun, things would look different. Or even the slim, single-bevelled blade he used to carry as a back-up weapon. Anything to keep that raging mass of pure muscle at arm’s length. But, of course, no such luck in hand-to-hand combat training. He _sucked_ at hand-to-hand combat. Which was exactly the reason why he was stuck in this situation, just like the last ten to twenty times this had happened.

Another fist whistled past his cheekbone, close enough that he could feel the draught on his sweaty skin. He stumbled backwards, desperate to bring some distance between him and his opponent. From the corner of his eye, he registered people moving out of the way to give him space – of course they were all watching him getting his butt kicked for the umpteenth time – but he quickly focussed on the more pressing matter at hand. Which was a behemoth charging right at his face. He felt his heart jump in his chest and ice water being dumped into his veins - the feeling was familiar, as was the adrenaline rush, the itch in his fingers. But he pushed it all down, back into the muddy pits of his subconsciousness where it belonged. There had been slips in the past, memories, instincts buried deep within his brain dragging him down into that headspace that had kept him alive for a whole decade. Nothing their instructors hadn’t been prepared for - after all, in this particular group of Crownsguard trainees, they were all veterans in their own right. They had learned to rein it in, to not spiral into survival mode every time they were faced with a combat situation. But damn, what would Prompto give to have a gun right now. He could see the bullet’s trajectory, first targeting the attacker’s leg right when he brought it down on the mat to propel himself forward, then aiming for the inevitable opening on his torso when he was stumbling. (He probably shouldn’t fantasize about this but he really didn’t have time to sort out his thoughts right now - and apart from that he was really _really_ tired of getting beaten up time and again by the same guy, so maybe he was feeling only a _little_ bit guilty for shooting him in his mind). But he didn’t have a gun. What he did have was a wall of meat twice his size rapidly closing the distance between them. Oh well.

Moving on to plan B.

Prompto was fast. That was one of the few things he had going for himself. Not nearly as fast as a bullet of course, but as long as he was faster than his opponent, it was ultimately all the same. That was the theory. In practice he shook himself out of his stupor and leapt straight for the human shaped behemoth closing in on him, his sudden change in tactic just enough distraction to allow him a well placed kick against the attacker’s leg. Not as impactful as a gunshot, but again, just enough. His opponent stumbled, Prompo went for the opening, a good punch in the solar plexus and it would be over, he would win, finally – a hand wrapped around his wrist like an iron shackle and twisted. Prompto felt his feet leaving the ground, his body flying through the air like a ragdoll. Then the training mats came rushing toward him and the air was pressed from his lungs as he found himself locked in a deathgrip. He squirmed, but there was no escape from the heavy limbs holding him down. He still kept struggling for a good thirty seconds before grinding his teeth in frustration and reluctantly hitting the mat with a flat hand, acknowledging his defeat.

Gladiolus Amicitia let go of his unfortunate victim and offered him a hand, pulling him upright with no visible effort.

‘Getting better, Argentum’, he said, not even slightly out of breath. Prompto thought he saw a glimpse of a shit-eating grin on the other man’s scarred face before the professional mask slipped back into place.

The captain of the Crownsguard wasn’t a bad instructor. On the contrary – he was observant, he gave sound advice, he didn’t yell – didn’t have to, not when his skills, his reputation and his mere physical appearance earned him all the respect he could need. It was just that Prompto was pretty sure that for whatever reason, the Shield had singled him out from the bunch for special torture. Not that he was openly or even covertly picking on him, oh no – he didn’t have to fall back on such methods. It was enough that every time they were trained by the boss himself, Prompto seemed to be the volunteer for every single demonstration; and whenever they were short on one trainee, he was the one who just happened to be paired with their instructor instead. _Especially_ when they were doing hand-to-hand combat. It was infuriating (even if it _did_ give Prompto’s training a not so insignificant boost, but he would never acknowledge that out loud).

Maybe he was imagining things. Maybe his perpetual insecurity caused him to over think. Maybe. But the thing was – he was at least 80 percent sure that he knew exactly what was going on. And if he had more sass and maybe also a death wish he might have told Gladiolus fucking Amicitia straight up that _it wasn’t like he was dating the godsdamned King of Lucis so there was really no need for this whole overprotective big brother bullshit._ Because if he had learned anything about the royal retainers from what Noct let slip during their frequent gaming sessions, it was that they were a) overprotective and b) the big brothers to end all big brothers, at least when they weren’t the most parenting parents to have ever parented. That also made Noct a petulant teenager in the body of a thirty-year-old who needed someone to kick him out of bed in the morning and make him eat his vegetables, which was slightly hilarious (and somewhat comforting since it meant Prompto wasn’t the only one refusing to act his age all the time). It was _also_ also slightly disturbing, since that made the _King_ a petulant teenager in the body of a thirty-year-old who needed someone to kick him out of bed in the morning and make him eat his vegetables. But that was a different bag of cats. Prompto’s current issue was, for the first part, that his direct superior seemed determined to make him suffer – and for no good reason at all.

 _That_ was the second part of the issue.

Because it really _wasn’t like they were dating._ Not if the definition of the word hadn’t changed dramatically since the last time Prompto had looked. Every now and then, Noct and him would hang out after work in some nondescript corner of the palace – more often than not the gallery where they had first met – to play a few rounds of King’s Knight. Sometimes they went to raid the kitchen, sometimes they just chilled and talked about random things. It was casual, it was easy, it was mostly insignificant (or rather, it probably was to everyone beside him, who couldn’t remember the last time he had made a friend just for the fun of it and not because they worked together or depended on each other to not die during the apocalypse). Anyway – he was sure that nothing about his relationship with Noct was remarkable enough to warrant special attention from his crazy bodyguard-slash-big-brother-with-a-capital-B. Sure, Noct kinda existed outside of normal standards, even if that was something Prompto never really thought about when they were together and intentionally avoided thinking about when they were not. But surely it wasn’t _that_ special for the King to spend time with other people, right? And even if it was (and he wouldn’t even start on that thought because Shiva’s tits why would the _King of Lucis_ – scratch that, why would someone as cool and fun and handsome as _Noct_ choose to hang out with _Prompto_ of all people) – then it still _wasn’t like they were dating._

Which was good, because that would make things weird and messy and really, really complicated and people would start paying attention to him and Ignis would murder him and Gladio would beat him to a pulp and he would finally have to deal with the whole _King_ business he so conveniently pushed aside every time it came up and... that would be bad, right? _Right?_

He wasn’t all that convinced.

And that was the third part of the issue.

***

Prompto was just leaving the gym, heading for a quiet spot to spend his lunch break (and wait for a text from Noct) as he was stopped by someone calling out his name. He turned around and found Ignis hurrying in his direction. Immediately, his heart jumped to his throat because what reason could the royal advisor have to speak to him? They hadn’t crossed paths again after the absolute wreck of a job interview, and Prompto hadn’t expected to see him again before officially taking up his duty as a Crownsguard. But here he was, neatly dressed as ever and not a hair out of place, with some kind of document in his hands.

‘May I have a moment of your time, Mr Argentum?’

‘Sure, uhm – yes, of course.’

The advisor gestured for him to follow and led him into an empty room branching off from the corridor. It was an office of some sort, though it didn’t look like it had been used in the last decade or two. They sat down and Ignis laid out the pages he had been carrying on the table in front of him.

‘Mr Argentum, I would like to talk to you about the issue of your security clearance.’

Prompto’s mind went blank. His security clearance. What about his security clearance? He couldn’t remember having any issues with his security clearance. He had received it with his appointment as Crownsguard, like everyone else, and there hadn’t been any _issues._ Wait. Had they done another background check? Was this about the place of his birth? Were they pissed that they accidentally gave a Niff access to the royal palace? Or... was it about Noct? Did they think...

‘Let me assure you that there is no problem, quite the contrary. His Majesty has requested for you to be cleared for unmonitored cellphone communication as well as access to his private quarters.’

That... wasn’t what he had expected. At all. Noct wanted him to... have access to his quarters. His _private quarters._ Where he lived. And slept. And showered. And... wow. Shit. What.

_Chill. He’s just... basically inviting you to his house, right? It happens. You invite people to your place, too. Stop thinking like a horny fifteen-year-old for once._

But damn if _private quarters_ didn’t have a certain special ring to it. And so much potential for a multitude of secret, wicked, sexy and all in all absurd daydreams – okay, he really had to rein in his downstairs brain here. Because if there was one thing he wanted more than some _private time_ with _Noct_ in _Noct’s private quarters_ , it was some quality nerd time with Noct wherever the hell they could fit a screen and a gaming console. And Noct was inviting him to his place, hopefully for just this purpose – that’s what friends did, didn’t they? It was basically a step up on the relationship ladder. It was a freaking dream come true. And he _wouldn’t_ make it awkward just because his dick was dead set on – wait.

‘Uhm... unmonitored cellphone communication?’

‘That’s right’, Ignis answered without batting an eye.

Well, shit.

So some Crownsguard had read _everything_ they had texted so far – even worse, possibly _Ignis_ had read everything they had texted. Including the embarrassing emoticon barrages Prompto tended to send, some of which _might_ fall into the category of not entirely decent (if of course all within the limits of a strictly friendly friendship between dudes); every stupid conversation about video games ever, all of which probably read like arguments between two braindead teenagers; or that time they had discussed what Gladio would do if locked in a room with cup noodles on one end and a porn magazine on the other (Prompto had heard so many stories from Noct by now that the familiarity with his retainers had rubbed off – at least as long as said retainers weren’t present - , and this alone would probably be reason enough for a court martial) (he chose the cup noodles in every scenario, by the way).

‘If you accept, I need you to sign this confidentiality agreement’, Ignis explained while sliding the document across the desk – either completely oblivious to Prompto’s mortification or ignoring it resolutely. ‘Due to your proximity to the King, you will be privy to certain information that is not intended for the public. Therefore, I must ask you to treat any and all information concerning the royal court, the King or your activities together as secrets of the state, unless specified otherwise. If your relationship is disclosed, you might be targeted by the press. In that case, you are to refuse answering any questions and refer them to the royal press office instead. Do you understand?’

Prompto closed his mouth with a clack of his teeth. His head was swimming.

‘Uh... y-yeah? I mean, yes, of course. I got it. Don’t tell anyone anything, don’t talk to the press. Sure.’

He was squirming on his seat uncomfortably. There were questions burning in his mind, so many questions, but it was impossible to single out the important ones. He knew there were regulations and protocol and stuff – he’d had to learn all of those by heart during his Crownsguard training. But this... this was ridiculous.

Ignis just sat there with raised eyebrows and seemed to scrutinize him from behind his visor, until finally a question burst forth from behind Prompto’s teeth after all.

‘Is that all really necessary? Not that I’m planning on telling people anything, least of all the press, but... we’re just hanging out. It’s not like-‘ he stopped himself and felt a fierce blush lighting up his cheeks. Quickly, he finished his sentence ‘- _s’notlikewe’redatingorsmthing._ ’

As usual, Ignis was not the least bit impressed. ‘I’m aware of that’, he said flatly (and was Prompto a teeny tiny bit disappointed that it was that obvious? No, surely not). ‘But nevertheless, you are frequently spending time with his Majesty in a personal capacity. And since he seems determined to pursue your friendship, this is nothing more than standard protocol to prevent any information leaks.’

Again, Prompto was left to stare. The traces of disappointment were gone, smothered by a warm feeling blooming somewhere in his stomach. Their _friendship._ Noct called it _friendship_. Ignis called it _friendship_ , which kinda made it official. It was amazing, hearing it out loud. Sure, that’s what it felt like, spending time with Noct; but Prompto would never have been the one to slap that particular label on the two of them. He would have been much too afraid to read something horribly wrong and make a fool of himself. But now, just like that, it was out in the open. He had made a friend. Not a colleague, not a gaming buddy, a friend. A friend who was also his boss and the King of Lucis, which was why their text messages were monitored and he needed official clearance to visit him at home.

This day was weird.

In the stunned silence that dragged on for several heartbeats, something in Ignis’ expression softened. Just by a fraction of course, not enough to distort his immaculate facade.

‘Personally, I’d also like you to know that I am not opposed to this friendship, even if all these official channels we have to go through might make it seem like it. I care a great deal for his Majesty’s happiness, and for him, spending time with you seems to be a much needed break from his duties – one I, even as a personal friend, cannot provide. For that, I am grateful to you.’

And now Ignis Scientia was pouring out his heart to him. The day kept getting weirder. Prompto barely managed to utter a ‘Yeah, uhm... thanks?’ before the advisor continued to speak, now all business again as if that moment of showing actual human emotions had never happened. Or maybe not quite, since there was a hidden steel edge to his words that made the hairs on Prompto’s neck stand up.

‘Of course, this also means that if you were to break this agreement’ he tapped on the paper on the desk ‘or turn out to use your connection to his Majesty for personal gain, I will not hesitate to take the appropriate measures.’

Prompto just nodded dumbly until he remembered that Ignis couldn’t see that. He had to clear his throat for his voice to start working again. ‘Yes. I understand.’

Ignis smiled – like a cat that was watching a canary it would either play with or eat alive, the blond thought – and handed him a pen. Prompto made a real effort to read through the pages before signing, but his brain was too fried for him to remember anything anyway. After he laid down the pen, Ignis collected the papers and wished him a good day, stalking away with his prize under his arm. Prompto leaned back in the chair, willing his heart to slow down to a normal rate and carded trembling fingers through his hair. Maybe being in the ring with Gladio was preferable after all.

His phone chimed in his pocket. He glanced down at the screen and felt a smile spread across his face.

_[Noct] U free after work today?_

His heart was beating fast for an entirely different reason as he pressed the reply-button and started to type.

_[Prom] Sure thing, c u tonight :)_

***

Noct was late.

It was no first – he was often tied up in some meeting or other or lost track of time buried in paperwork. It still made Prompto’s heart beat anxiously every time. Yes, they’ve been meeting for weeks now, and Noct always seemed to enjoy their time together. Yes, he was always ready to listen to Prompto gush about Chocobos or photography for hours on end without getting annoyed or telling him to shut up - and gave as good as he got by dusting off equally lengthy anecdotes about fishing or his retainers’ quirks (although Prompto tended to soak up the latter with amazement and wicked glee alike). Yes, they were _friends_. But Noct was an important person, and Prompto had never been very high on anyone’s list of priorities. It would be stupid to think he was entitled to the King’s time, or that playing games was somehow more important than whatever state business the royal court was tending to at the moment. That didn’t mean he didn’t feel slightly nauseous because of it.

And like every other time, just as his nervousness threatened to turn into panic at the thought that maybe _today was the day, today he’ll realize I’m not worth the effort_ , a dark-haired whirlwind came rushing through the corridor and plopped down on the sofa next to him. He was wearing a tailored suit and the regal posture still clung to his stiff shoulders like a heavy cloak. It made the lump in Prompto’s throat loosen a bit - but not disappear, because Noctis Lucis Caelum looked alien up close, like his friend but also not. But then Noct shed his jacket and tie, mussed up his hair in a casual gesture and rolled his stiff shoulders to let them fall down into the same familiar slouch. He turned to Prompto, his lips twitching with the usual hint of a smile, and then his face split into a huge, open-mouthed and completely undignified yawn.

Prompto felt something loosen in his chest and he chuckled.

‘What, they didn’t let you sleep in your meeting?’

Noct just snorted and rubbed his eyes dramatically. ‘They never do. Traitors, all of them.’ He blinked, squinting at the blond. ‘But you look more stressed out than me. Something happened?’

‘Huh? Uh, no.’ Prompto shrugged. ‘Just had to go through your two gatekeepers of doom today. They really take their jobs seriously.’

‘Specs and Gladio?’ Noct frowned. ‘They give you a hard time? ‘Cause, I can talk to them if they did.’

‘No, no!’, Prompto was quick to interject. The last thing he wanted was for Noct to butt heads with his two oldest friends on his account. ‘I mean, Gladio worked me over in training today, but that’s mostly because I suck at fighting without a gun. And Ignis is just... Ignis, y’know? He’s... not easy to talk to.’

‘Yeah, sometimes he’s _too_ good at what he does. Catch!’ Noct threw a can of soda he had produced from somewhere – sometimes Prompto wondered if he just pulled this stuff out of thin air. The blond caught it just in time before it hit him square in the face.

‘We should train together some time’, Noct went on while popping open a second can for himself. ‘I can show you my tricks on how to beat Gladio, and you can give me some pointers on my terrible shooting.’

Prompto nearly choked on his soda. First of all because his brain was very quick to come up with a picture of Noct in training gear, sweaty and flushed and... he pushed that one down decisively, but there was still the casual invitation of spending _more_ time with Noct, of Noct trusting him with his combat training, of Noct wanting him to _teach_ him. It made his stomach flutter in all the right ways.

‘Sure, yeah, if you want to’, he rushed to say as soon as he had finished coughing. There was just one thing... ‘Uh, you sure that your bodyguards would be cool with that? With my security clearance and stuff... I mean, it seemed to be a pretty big deal for them to push it to the next level as it is, so I don’t know if trying to punch you is included just yet.’

‘Well, they’ll just have to suck it up’, Noct grumbled. ‘Besides, you’re training to be my bodyguard, too.’

There was a downturn to his lips, the grim expression that was reserved for when they breached the topic of ‘that royal crap’. They usually avoided it, since it was a touchy subject for both of them. For Prompto because it made that creeping fear of being _not enough_ so much more real, and because he always felt like he got entangled in something far bigger and more complicated than he had anticipated. Not that it wasn’t worth it. But it was still terrifying. Noct on the other hand... Prompto couldn’t begin to imagine how Noct felt about all of it. He would have guessed before that running a country – especially one that was just being rebuilt – was no easy task. But having a front row seat on how it sapped Noct’s energy and wore him down with the weight of responsibility was a very different thing. Not that Noct would acknowledge it when they were together, but sometimes the exhaustion and the seriousness of a man much older than him still bled through, like ink in clear water. And Prompto allowed himself to feel a speck of pride that he had learned to see it despite all the walls Noct built to avoid just that – and, more importantly, that he had gotten pretty good at chasing it away with just a few bright words and bad jokes.

Now though, Noct blinked away the grim expression by himself and looked up with a different kind of frown instead.

‘Wait, about your clearance – did Specs talk to you about that?’

‘Uh, yeah. He made me sign a confidentiality agreement... pretty sure there was a clause about selling my soul in the fine print, too.’

To his surprise, Noct rolled his eyes with a groan. ‘Dammit’, he mumbled. ‘Sorry that he jumped you like that - I told him that I wanted to talk to you about it first. Guess he got ahead of himself again.’

‘Hey, no problem’, Prompto waved aside his concern, but Noct shook his head.

‘I wanted- I didn’t want you to feel like you _have to_ , y’know? I know all of this...’ he waved his hands in a gesture encompassing their surroundings ‘...it’s weird. And people are really stuck up about things and... I don’t want you to feel like you have to, well, sell your soul just to hang out with me.’ His lips twitched at the last sentence and Prompto counted that as a victory.

‘Nah, it’s cool. I mean, the texting – obviously. I can’t believe someone read all that crap I sent. And, if you really want me to come to your place... it’s all good, I don’t mind signing some scrap of paper. Just imagine the epic gaming marathons we can do now! That’s totally worth my soul.’

Noct’s shoulders relaxed and he returned the blond’s grin. ‘Yeah, speaking about gaming marathons...’, he said with a sparkle in his eyes. ‘That was my original plan. Like, lure you in with the promise of junkfood, beer and video games and _then_ make you sign the evil contract.’

‘So, I’m making a deal with the devil for a sleepover?’

‘Pretty sure there’s a social rule that says dudes in their thirties don’t have sleepovers.’

Prompto snorted and propped his feet up on the table. ‘A manly men’s night, then. But the last ten years were crap anyway, so I say we deserve a second shot at our wild youth.’

A shadow passed across Noct’s face and Prompto mentally kicked himself in the head for casually bringing up the dark years like that. Years that had started with Noct going missing in enemy territory and ended with him fighting through the ruins of Insomnia almost on his own, standing against hoards of daemons and literal _Gods_. If the stories were true. He had never really thought about the guy next to him actually _living_ through all the unbelievable things people told each other on the streets. But true or not, he doubted that Noct had fond memories of the years between the fall and the Dawn. Probably even less so than anyone else, with the weight of the whole world resting on his shoulders.

Before he could apologize for being an insensitive buffoon, Noct shook off the uncomfortable silence and tried on a crooked smile. It was almost convincing.

‘I guess you’re right. Let’s have a sleepover, then.’

Prompto put on his widest grin and watched with relief how the traces of tension in his friend’s expression smoothed out in response.

‘Hell yeah!’

***

It was a whole week until they finally got to set their plan in motion. After training, Prompto had showered and changed in record time and was now lingering around in a corner of the lobby, waiting for the Crownsguard that was supposed to meet him and escort him to Noct’s quarters. Of course he was at least fifteen minutes early and therefore left to shift from one foot to the other and wring his hands nervously, trying not to glance at his watch every few seconds. It felt like an eternity until finally, a shadow fell on him. He looked up – and stared into Gladio’s scarred face.

‘I’m told there’s one recruit to be delivered to the King’s doorstep’, the Shield drawled in a perfectly disinterested tone.

‘Y-yes Sir.’ Prompto tried to stand at attention as much as it was possible with his gym bag slung over his shoulder; but Gladio just waved his efforts aside.

‘It’s after hours, so forget about the _Sir_ -ing. As long as you remember it during training.’ He held out a large, calloused hand. ‘It’s Gladio.’

Prompto took the offered hand cautiously, almost expecting it to be a set-up for another lesson in self-defence that would have him meet the ground face first. Nothing happened. ‘Uhm, sure. I’m Prompto.’ Not that Gladio didn’t know that already, but it felt wrong not to offer anything in return.

The taller man just waved him along as he started to climb the stairs and Prompto hurried to follow. Soon he found himself in an area of the palace he had never been to – it was far quieter than the more frequented parts of the building, but there were guards on every corner and the doors between corridors had to be opened with a key card Gladio produced from his belt.

There was an uncomfortable silence hanging thickly in the air between them. It made Prompto nervous and twitchy until finally, he couldn’t keep his tongue in check anymore.

‘So, no _you break his heart, I break your face_ -talk from you?’, he quipped before he could think better of it. And immediately wished the floor would open up and swallow him, because had he really just said that to the freaking Shield of the King, one of the most intimidating people in all of Lucis?

Gladio just raised an eyebrow at him. ‘Do I need to?’, he asked. It sounded threatening. Or maybe those were just Prompto’s nerves. But he was pretty sure it sounded threatening.

‘No, I... no. Ignis already has it covered’, he mumbled quickly.

‘Good. His warnings don’t cause as much of a scene as mine. And usually have more of an impact.’

‘Oh, I don’t know.’ Okay, he should stop babbling, like, _right now._ ‘Don’t underestimate the effect of those muscles.’

There was a small stunned silence. Then, to his astonishment, Gladio answered with a throaty laugh and a slap on his back that almost made him stumble.

‘Yeah, I get why Iris likes you. You’ve got a lot in common.’

‘Uhm... thanks?’

Gladio just shook his head. ‘You should thank _her_. I don’t give that kind of special treatment to just any new recruit, but if Noct and her join forces on something, it’s hard to resist. At least if you don’t want to be annoyed to death.’

Prompto almost stumbled again. ‘Special treatment?’

‘Seriously...’ The taller man gave him a look that told him he was a special kind of stupid. ‘I’ve been busting my ass here to give you a bit of extra coaching without pissing off the other recruits. Favourites usually don’t have it easy, you know? So we can’t start with the _real_ fun until basic training is done with. But after that, we’ll put some meat on those bones of yours.’

Prompto just opened and closed his mouth a few times like a fish, not entirely sure how to answer that. Or whether to be relieved that Gladio wasn’t actually out for his blood, or terrified at the prospect that the Shield seemed to have a whole training schedule in store _just for him_. How the hell did that happen? And did Noct seriously ask _his own Shield_ to keep an eye on _Prompto’s_ training?

Before he had the chance to work through this new piece of information, they stopped in front of a door and Gladio gestured for him to go on without him. Before turning to leave, he gave Prompto a grin and a wave that almost seemed... friendly? He hoped it was. But his attention was quickly claimed by the door in front of him instead, and all thoughts on the Shield were wiped from his mind. The door wasn’t remarkable – it looked like every other door in this part of the building, an expanse of smooth wood, lacquered white. There was no pomp, no sign that announced _Here lives the King._ There was just a standard bell button on the wall, with no name tag. Apparently, everyone who got that far into the palace knew who lived behind this door anyway. Prompto drew in one deep breath and pushed the button.

The door flew open immediately.

Looking at Noct in jeans and t-shirt threw Prompto off for a second - normally he would wear some toned-down version of his formal wear when they met, since that had always been right after work. But the casual look suited him, even if those particular items looked a touch too stylish for an evening on the couch. Then again, Prompto was no expert on what royalty usually dressed like at home. Much more remarkable was the wide-eyed expression Noct was wearing on top of that; a hopeful kind of excited that reminded Prompto of an oversized puppy. He was almost disappointed when it was hidden instantly behind the usual semi-bored facade.

‘...Hey.’

‘Hey.’ Prompto shuffled around for a bit until Noct seemed to remember why the both of them were here in the first place and quickly waved him through the door. While the blond kicked off his shoes (in a hall that was bigger than his living room) he caught Noct busying himself trying to smooth down his hair from the corner of his eye – which was weird since normally he couldn’t muss it up fast enough whenever he escaped Ignis’ attentive presence. He hastily stuffed his hands in his pockets though as soon as Prompto turned back to face him. There was a hint of a blush on his cheeks as he gestured for the blond to follow him with a tilt of his head and lead him into the living room (which was bigger than Prompto’s entire apartment). And then Prompto had to stop and _stare._

Noct’s apartment didn’t exactly look like something out of a fairytale, but it might at least have been plucked out of a lifestyle magazine for rich business people. That wasn’t exactly a surprise. Neither were the posters, action figures and comic books scattered about haphazardly, giving the place a personal touch. No, Prompto’s attention was caught by the set-up in the middle of the room, in front of the appropriately large TV. A black leather couch, a low glass table, a grey carpet. Though barely any part of those was visible. The couch drowned in a mass of blankets and pillows, with controllers of at least three different gaming consoles scattered across them. In front of the couch rose a mountain of snacks, the obviously handcrafted sandwiches and appetizers that could only be Ignis’ doing laid out on the table while Noct’s contribution in the form of chip bags, chocolate bars and soda cans covered the carpet. Prompto also spotted a crate of beer half hidden between the elegant metal legs of the table and a bottle of what was probably some absurdly expansive top shelf liquor stuffed behind a potted plant in the corner. The only thing that was meticulously organized was the impressive stack of games in their colourful plastic covers balanced precariously on the edge of the TV stand.

For a moment, Prompto had to ask himself if maybe he got it all wrong and there was some kind of huge party going on tonight. Because setting up all of this for just two people was ridiculous. Then the sound of someone clearing their throat uncomfortably reminded him that it was probably rude to just stand there and stare with an open mouth, but he couldn’t really do anything about it.

‘It’s overkill, isn’t it’, Noct said next to him. He wore that damn sheepish look again that made Prompto just want to hug him. Right now though, he was still a bit dazed by the nerd dream come true in front of his eyes.

‘Yeah, it’s overkill.’

Noct sighed and ran a hand through his hair, messing up the style he had fumbled around with all this time. It suited him better.

‘Shit’, he mumbled. ‘I should have listened to Gladio.’ He stuffed his hands back in his pockets, frowning at the tower of food in front of them. ‘Sorry. I made it weird.’

‘Huh?’ The defeated tone made Prompto snap out of it and he shook his head with such fervour that he felt the muscles in his neck protest. ‘No, no, dude! This is _awesome_!’

Noct’s storm blue eyes widened just a fraction, but Prompto already rambled on. ‘This is like... the most amazing sleepover _ever_. Not that I’ve been to many sleepovers, but even if I had, this one would take the cake!’ A huge grin split his face and he looked at Noct with bright eyes. ‘Bro, I love you.’

He blinked.

‘I mean, all of it. I love it. And you, obviously. You’re the best. Y’know, the best dude. Pal. Bro. Uh... can we... please just go ahead and get drunk now?’

Noct stared at him for a moment with a blank expression. Then an amused snort burst forth from somewhere in his chest, followed by a full-throated laugh. Prompto listened with burning ears, but he couldn’t help but feel his lips twist into a grin as well, despite the mortification making his heart race at breakneck speed. When Noct’s laughing fit had receded to a quiet chuckle, he went to fish two bottles out of the crate under the table. Pressing one of them into Prompto’s hand, he raised the second in a dramatic toast.

‘Well then – to our wild youth.’

Prompto returned the toast and quickly raised the bottle to his lips to distract from his still flushed face. If the start of the evening was any indication, he wouldn’t get out of here without setting a new record for something like ‘most embarrassments in front of a crush per hour’. But... looking at Noct sprawling on the couch like a content starfish, now completely at ease and with a rare dopey smile on his face, he found that he really didn’t care.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really just wanted to write Noct and Prom having a sleepover - but then Iggy and Gladio came along and ruined it. So now there will be at least a third chapter of this, with games and booze and some sparks flying ;) so stay tuned


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